


Holler, Wail, Swing, and Flail

by reeei



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeei/pseuds/reeei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max didn't want to know about Furiosa's past, but when has the universe ever grant his wishes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holler, Wail, Swing, and Flail

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how much to tag and warn for this before it become too spoilery. If you're worried, please read the notes at the end, or skip the second paragraph.
> 
> Title from _Future Starts Slow_ by the Kills  
>  Parts of the story were inspired by [this headcanon](http://liiiiiiing.tumblr.com/post/120610111875/).
> 
> Thanks so much to Mae for beta'ing parts of this!!! You've worked your magic as always <3  
> And thanks to my twitter squad for cheering me on <3
> 
> After I've written most of this, I saw an interview where the director George Miller and Charlize Theron talked about how Furiosa lost her arm, and it was definitely not what was in this fic. So consider this canon-divergence if you'd like? XD

 

> _You can holler, you can wail;_
> 
> _You can swing, you can flail;_
> 
> _You can fuck like a broken sail._
> 
> _But I'll never give you up._
> 
> _If I ever give you up my heart will surely fail._
> 
> _You can blow what's left of my right mind._
> 
> _I don't mind._
> 
> \-- _Future Starts Slow_ by the Kills

  


There was a time when Furiosa wasn’t simply Furiosa. There was a time before she was Imperator Furiosa. They used to call her -- the Magnificent Furiosa.

She hadn’t died during labor; She hadn’t pissed off Immortan Joe and gotten thrown off the cliff; She hadn’t become a milking mother, or a tutor, or any other roles that women played in the Citadel on the day she turned 32, when Immortan Joe announced that she was no longer suitable of being a breeder. No one knew how she became a warrior, how she had Joe agree to it. All they knew was, she had walked out of the vault without her left forearm, head shaved.

No one knew what kind of deal she made with Joe, and no one dared to ask.

Among the warriors, she climbed the ladder with fierce concentration and an unshakable will. She made imperator in six years. Imperator Furiosa was no longer magnificent -- far from it, she was now ferocious. Some war boys worshiped her. The other imperators couldn’t wait to witness her.

 

Furiosa didn’t tell Max any of this. Max didn’t ask to know any of this. Max even tried to stop Capable, Dag, and Cheedo from telling the story -- when he looked to Toast with a plea in his eyes,  she looked away with a small smile on her face.

“Some people said she cut her own arm off,” Dag whispered in an awed tone.

“And how would that had played out?” Toast rolled her eyes.

“I heard that she had stabbed her own stomach before, so they had her hands bound. One day, she pulled off her arm when she was trying to get out of the restraints. She was pregnant then. She fell, lost the baby and her womb. That was why Joe had her decommissioned,” Capable matter-of-factly told her version.

“I was told she killed her own new-born baby once,” Cheedo’s eyes had gone round and wide, her voice tremulous. “She couldn’t find the chance to stop him from becoming another Joe until he was born.”

“That is…” Toast considered for a second, “That is actually quite believable.”

Max pondered for a second before opening his mouth, “She could’ve raised him and overthrow Joe.”

“No, she couldn’t have,” Capable’s face was overshadowed by sadness. “They would take the kids away from their mothers. Unhealthy boys would be raised to be war boys or other less honorable jobs, healthy ones would be raised to be the new warlords; Healthy girls would be raised to be a new generation of breeders.”

Max was once again hestaint to speak, “and the unhealthy ones…”

“Wouldn’t even get the chance to grow up down there in the desert,” Toast finished his sentence with her tough mask mostly intact, but her red-rimmed eyes are betraying her.

“Toast lost three baby girls,” Capable supplied, “Angharad lost two. Dag lost four. I lost three, too. Cheedo hasn’t had any daughter yet.”

“In all of the years Joe had tried, he had never had a healthy son?” Max asked.

“Yeah,” Toast’s smile was vicious. “If he really wanted a healthy heir, he should’ve find someone healthy to fuck us. But, no, he was too proud.”

 

Max wasn’t planning on coming back.

He was five miles out of the Citadel when the car reached him.

The Vuvalini said some people were trying to overthrow Furiosa. Those filthy hoons didn’t succeed, but one of them sliced Furiosa’s thighs and now she was losing so much blood, so much.

He hopped onto their car.

It was only after they were on the lift did he realized it was too peaceful. Water was still pouring down. People were patiently waiting in line for it. The whole damn canyon was SNAFU -- no way had there been a riot.

He turned to look at the woman behind the wheel. She grinned, showing what’s left of her teeth. He closed his eyes and let out a huff.

Well, he was not going to defy this woman anyway.

Furiosa looked genuinely surprised when Max entered what used to be Joe’s sitting room, with a tinge of something else he couldn’t quite place.

She didn’t ask why he came back, didn’t tell him to leave. She didn’t tell him to stay, either. Dag was the one who barged into the room and asked if he wanted to sleep in one of the rooms in the mansion, or out in the dorms with the boys.

He opened his mouth, wanted to say he’s leaving, the words were on the tip of his tongue.

But something in Dag’s eyes made him look over to Furiosa.

He pursed his lips.

It had him stay that night.

It wasn’t that her eyes showed disappointment, or loneliness, or sadness, or plea.

He saw himself in her eyes.

An empty bottle that once was filled, but too long had it been empty that the vessel itself forgot it was possible to be filled.

And now that he had stayed one night, he might as well stick around a little longer. He was curious. He wanted to see what kind of things these women would build. He had abandoned hope long, long ago once. If they could revive even that, it was only a matter of time before they build a new Green Place.

This was not only hope.

This was something much more dangerous--

Faith.

 

The second time he came back, water was no longer pouring down from the cliff. It was only a tiny stream.

“We’re building tubes and pipes and what not, trying to use water as efficient as possible, since we don’t know how much longer before it dries out,” Capable explained when he voiced his concerned.

He nodded.

“She’s waiting for you. I think she wanted to talk to you about something.”

He frowned. That didn’t sound good.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing life-threatening,” Capable smiled as if she was seeing something… amusing. “I know she’s been considering doing something for awhile, I just don’t know what it is. I can guess, but I’m not sure.”

“What do you think it might be?”

“She’s getting antsy, you know? She’s not the type to stay at one place for too long. Those long legs need stretching,” Capable laughed softly.

It was a very nice sound.

Max smiled back.

“She’s with the warboys, in one of the new classrooms up there,” She waved toward their right. “Go.”

“I’m not a dog.” And she was not very good at giving directions.

“Sure,” She grinned.

 

“I’m thinking about leaving the Citadel.” Was the first thing out of Furiosa’s mouth when Max sat down in front of her in an empty classroom.

He raised his left brow high.

“I mean, I’m thinking about leaving the ‘ruling’ thing to someone else. It’s not my thing, governing, and I know I’m not doing a very good job at it,” She explained.

“I think you’re doing a good enough job,” He grunted. Did anyone have issues with her?

“I’m good with keeping everything under a lid. And I can lead a group of fighters or warriors or strays,” She gave him a look before she continued. “Not with herding sheep though.”

“What do you want to do?” He was more curious than he would’ve liked.

“Doing what I did before, I guess? Retrieving resources for the Citadel, training warriors, _being_ a soldier. Anything that can get me out of this castle for some extensive period of time.”

She was now looking at him expectantly. He unconsciously sat up straighter like a new recruit in front of their commanding officer.

“Would you be willing to accompany me? We make a good team, it would be a waste if we don’t exploit it.”

“I…” His brain was giving up on him.

“No rush. Promise me you’ll think about it, yeah?” She looked nervous. Why was she nervous?

He nodded.

She looked down to the ground with a tiny smile.

 

Max didn’t think Furiosa needed him. He knew she didn’t.

It was nice to feel tolerated in the Citadel, or _wanted_. It was still _need_ , but for non-survival reasons.

It was a feeling so ancient that he almost forgot he had ever felt it before-- to be asked to be someone’s partner, to be trusted to this degree.

It was odd, but in a good way.

There was a new voice in his head, alerting him how much more wrecked and fucked-up he would be if he were to lose this, again.

But it felt too good to let go just yet.

He held on.

Loosely, but holding on.

 

✦✦✦

 

One quiet night,  Max told her all the crazy theories and rumors he learned about her past.

Furiosa snorted, “It was not dramatic at all, it was plain, it was _life_. They found out I had cancer, cut off my arm, shaved my head in preparation for chemo therapy. He wasn’t going to grant me medical attention at first, of course. But I reminded him that I was trained to fight as a child, and if he let the Mechanic treat me, I’ll fight for him. And I did.”

“You had him save your life, so you could take his later.” Max couldn’t help but feeling the corner of his mouth curving up.

“Yeah. And my cancer hasn’t come back,” She grinned. “How’s that for karma?”

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warning: amputation; mentions of past abuse and sexual assault; speculation of self-harm, violent attempts at abortion, and infanticide; implication of infanticide; past grave illness.


End file.
